dear boy who might have stolen my heart,
we were driving down wilshire boulevard when i saw you out of the corner of my eye.

you were strumming your steering wheel. i noticed a dimple when you smiled to yourself. maybe it was a song you really liked. i thought it was sweet.

i wondered if you saw me, too, glancing at my rearview mirror every five seconds to see if you were still behind me. every time we'd come to a stoplight, i'd slow down just enough to make sure you didn't miss the light -- so i could still gawk at you.

you had brown hair and a smooth chin. you wore a white t-shirt. you drove a metallic green honda crx, nothing fancy. i don't know what it was, but i really was drawn to everything about you.

maybe you had a lyrical laugh. maybe you took photographs for a living. maybe you'd hold my hand as we ran across the street in the rain. maybe my parents would adore you and we'd visit them every few weeks armed with flowers and bottles of the finest wine. maybe you could love someone like me. maybe.

at barrington street, i got a green light. you slowed down when it turned yellow. i lost you. i kept looking back, but you turned into a green speck among a sea of cars in the distance.

maybe you really weren't wonderful at all, but that was the best commute i've ever had.